Mathiew Diggle's Dragon Adventure
by Deceptifemme
Summary: She hid during the many ages, choosing not to fight on either side. When she next surfaced it was in a deep cavern below the Shire. Myths and legends hinted at her existence for ages, telling of a malicious trickster who, if you were caught steeling her treasure you'd have to win a game of riddles to live. (Believe it or not I don't own the Lord of the Rings universe :P)
1. Chapter 1

(So, I wanted to write this for it's adorable potential, but I didn't want to make my own world out of laziness. So I kinda borrowed LotR. I tried not to butcher it, and only said things I really thought were true for the universe. It's just a light setting, and I love the shire so :P.)

(BTW, I dont own the Lord of the Rings serise, duh)

A Lady Like No Other

Young hobbits growing up listened intently to the tales of the elderly, stories of grandeur and excitement (Like that of the tale of Bilbo Baggins, Barrel Rider, or Frodo Baggins, Ring Bearer). But to one young hobbit named Mathiew Diggle these stories held every wonder in the world. Great heroes of old who gave all themselves for others and armies ready to die for the right. Many of the young hobbits would play pretend, being heroes in their own rights in realms far off and mysterious. But they didn't like him, they never let him play with them. 'oh do not hang around that one.' their parents would tell them, 'that one is a right odd hobbit he is.' or 'got a bit of Took or Baggins in him he must.' This hurt him, to have no one to share his adventure with; but he decided that he didn't need them, he could have adventures all by himself.

In early summer, frost still clinging to the night air, he woke early and ran out into the forests in search for fairies and pixies and trolls. He usually went into the east woods to play, because the other kids would make him leave the open field where they played, but that day he chose to explore the western forest. He picked up his walking stick , gaining a splinter in the process, and ran through the trees, over logs and beyond a river to a rocky outcropping which he climbed.

"I am the Diggle, great warrior of Hobbiton and protector of the western woods!" he proclaimed as he raised his little wooden stave in the air like a sword then he jumped down onto a mossy stone below.

Pointing to a large toad on the ground he yelled, "Surrender ye beasty, or I will fell thou with but one swing!" to which he got a board croak in response. "Fine then, monster of the darkest wood, you've sealed you're own fate!" He moved to jump down to the ground and strike next to the toad but the moment his little, furry and bare hobbit feet touched the ground he heard it creak below him and the moss covered board broke beneath him. He dropped his stick as he fell, smacking into walls and outcroppings he fell for far longer than he though was possible; finally landing with a surprising splash into a bone chilling underground pond. At first he panicked, he had little experience with swimming, but he quickly surfaced gasping for air and looking about himself. High, high above him he saw a spot of light and to his left he saw a tunnel leading away. Grabbing his floating stick he floundered to the shore and pulled himself up.

Breathing heavily and ringing out his icy wet clothing he sighed as he looked up at where he fell and said, "No getting up back that way." But he got a quick smile then a strong look in his eye; this was his adventure, his chance to make his own great tales. Getting up and brushing off the dirt on his cloths he began walking down the dim, dank hallway. He realized it was a stone hallway after a moments inspection, as the walls were squared and the floor relatively smooth and he was very glad to find it had no offshoot tunnels, only a slight decline downward. This caused him to frown, for he wanted to go up, not down, but as he had no other way to go but back he kept going forward. It got darker and darker as he went farther in, until he was walking in complete darkness and using his stick as a cane and shivering up a storm. But as the ground levelled out a light glow appeared in the distance and the now scared but excited boy began running towards the light, thinking it to be the surface.

He ran out of the cold tunnel and just stopped short of a huge mound of gold, "that's larger than my house." he mumbled as he buttoned his jacket, "That's larger than the biggest building in the Shire!" The room he stood in was enormous, the ceiling was almost out of his sight but for a scattered few beams of light that illuminated the space. It seemed to once be a hall, with delicate pillars beautiful in construction with vine and leaf patterns adorning them.

But the magnificence of the room didn't hold his attention for long for soon the boys eyes shifted towards the mounds of treasure. Swords, axes, bows and other weapons along with gold uncountable and more gems than could ever be appraised created the great mound before him. Mathiew slowly walked onto the warm pile examining the various weapons, much to big for hobbit hands not to mention child hobbit hands but as he walked over the jingling coin mounds he spotted something that made him excited. A sword (more of a very small knife really) laid upon the pile, it was just his size. He carefully picked his way across the pile until he stood before it and he scooped it up. It had various decorative markings on it and though it was very small for a human it weighed heavily in his little hobbit hands. A thought suddenly popped into his head and he looked around in fear; in the stories a dragon would guard such treasure with a great viciousness. But as he regarded the cavern he saw nothing.

'Perhaps the beast is dead?' he thought to himself as he picked his way down the mound, pocketing a few coins as he did. Looking about the cavernous hall he spotted a stair that led upwards and began to walk towards it, pockets jingling with the warm coins in his pocket.

'Warm coins...' he thought absently, 'Warm-'then it all clicked in his child mind a moment too late.

There was a rustling of coins behind him and a female voice boomed around him, freezing him with fear, "And where do you think you're going, little thief? When you've taken so much of my plunder." He couldn't move, he couldn't think he felt paralysed until the dragon spoke again, "Oh, little thief, turn this way and tell me you're name, wont you?"

Shaking with fear he slowly turned about and looked at the monster in front of him. Redder than the setting sun she was massive; her leathery wings stretched up off her back and rose up intimidatingly; her posture was relaxed, though one of her claws materialized out of a nearby mound to block his exit; but what entranced him were her eyes. They burned with an intensity so strong he could not speak to answer her.

"I'll only ask a second time, youngling, what is you're name?" she boomed again, a tinge of anger present in her rumbling tones.

Taking a moment to find his voice he mumbled, "Mathiew." then cleared his throat and said louder, "Mathiew."

"Mathiew." she repeated as she shifted, her nearing claw forcing the boy hobbit closer, "What a ... mortal little name. Tell me, do you know who I am?" The young hobbit shook his head. "Ah well, it has been ages since my days in the sky, and mortals quickly forget the eternal." came a slightly disappointed sigh but then she focused on him completely, "I am Pshirrta, Queen of Quiet Hills; dragonnette of higher sky's; flame of the highest clouds!" she claimed with extra enthusiasm. The poor little Diggle had to cover his ears at the tremendous noise.

Lowering her serpentine face before his tiny form (So small was he, he could have disappeared into her own nose should he have chosen to do so!) she growled, "But enough of introductions, little thief. You've tried to take something of mine, and I don't appreciate rogues at any time; but particularly not when they've taken what's mine."

Mathiew was now trembling as her more than singeing breath washed over him; he was going to die. He looked at his feet, not willing to see his own demise. But it didn't not come. Her fiery breath did not come to crisp him, her claws didn't move and he was pretty sure she hadn't swallowed him whole. He risked a glance up to find her giant draconian face smirking at his tiny, helpless form. This angered him; he did not want to be toyed with, if it was to end he wanted it ended; like the heroes in the stories.

Suddenly she spoke, not as loud as before but as he was so close to her mouth the heat was almost unbearable, "But, little one I'm willing to offer you a chance, a slim one it may be, but a chance at life. We'll play a game, oh it's one of my favourites." she paused then continued as she lifted her head far above him, "I'm going to ask you a riddle, and you're going to answer. If you answer it correctly then you may ask me a riddle. If you win then I'll allow you to leave, without my treasure mind you, but if you answer wrongly then ... well I assume you can imagine what will happen."

The young hobbit, regaining his ability to breath smoothly nodded and stuttered, "A-ask away."

Grinning widely and taking a deep, deep breath she said, "Ahh, good! How about to start off an easy one, for a thief so little ...,

Round like an apple, deep like a cup,  
yet all the kings horses cant pull it up"

This puzzled the little hobbit for only a moment but then he thought of his chores, seeding the farm, miliking their cow and fetching water for his mother from the well. "It's a well!" he said happily, proudly; which made the dragon grin wider and coil tighter around his fidgeting form.

"Very good!" Pshirrta mocked, "Your turn now, make it a good one."

He looked around the chamber, trying to scrounge for a riddle, any riddle to ask and made an 'ah!' face when he thought of one;

Looking up into her huge eyes he asked,

"Give me food, and I will live; give me water,

and I will die. What am I?"

She laughed, the sound echoing around them and reverberating throughout the chamber so loudly it threatened to shake Mathiew's bones from his skin. Recomposing herself the dragon looked down at her prisoner and bellowed, "Why little one, while I'm flattered you chose to tell a riddle about me though I highly doubt it's in your favour to do so!"

Confused the child hobbit shouted, "But it isn't about you! You guessed wrongly! I'm free to go!" then he emptied his pockets of the dragon's coins (but not her knife) and preceded to walk around her claw and over her tail to the exit.

He didn't get far before her claw was forcing him back to where he had stood before, "Oh but little one, the answer is fire! And am I not fire? Shall I be forced to demonstrate?" she asked playfully as she brought her face close to him and her breath got even hotter, accompanied by a glow in her throat.

"No, no that wont be required!" he shouted holding up his hands defensively, "Ask me another riddle!"

The glow disappearing and the heat dissipating a touch she enquired,

"At night they come without being fetched, and by day they

are lost without being stolen. What are they?"

This he had to think about for a moment, and he sat down on the pile of gold to do so. He looked about the room to help him think of the answer. 'Darkness?' he thought but then dismissed it, the darkness was not a 'they'. Looking up through one of the holes in the almost infinitely high up ceiling it came to him through one of the holes that let in light.

"The stars!" he shouted (He could hardly believe it was night already, but the stars he saw confirmed it.), to which she frowned.

"Yes." she hissed, "I haven't flown with them in so long. Come now, ask another!"

He sighed and thought as he played with his walking stick, shifting it around in his hands but a little stab of pain caught his attention. The splinter from earlier! He smiled and looked up at the dragon then said,

"I went into the woods and got it. I sat down to seek it. I brought it

home with me because I couldn't find it. What is it?"

This had the dragon puzzled for quite some time (Mathiew thought this riddle quite clever on his part, as he doubted the dragon had ever had or felt a pain such as a splinter before!), and eventually he gained the courage to ask, "Well, do you have an answer to my riddle?"

"Hold on a moment, young thief, what's your hurry?" she hissed with irritation , making it obvious to him she was stuck, to which he mumbled, "My mother is sure to be missing me..." But still he waited for another twenty minuets (Twenty very hungry minuets for he'd only eaten this morning!) before she growled, "Fine! You've won! You have your freedom on one condition!"

"But I win I go free! That was the deal!" Mathiew frowned, crossing his arms.

The dragon's tail swooped about angrily around his right side before flicking off another way, "I want to know the answer to the riddle!" she bellowed, ignoring his complaints.

"A splinter." He stated, then began inching past her claw. This answer stunned her and left a shocked and dumbfounded look on her serpentine visage. Then she groaned and moved her claw from his path, to which he smiled.

He began at a run towards the stair but her tail quickly returned to block his path as she stated coldly, "You may have won your freedom, but that doesn't mean you may pick trinkets from my treasure." Getting a sheepish grin he pulled the blade out from inside his coat and placed it on the ground.

Her tail moved from his path and again he made a break for the stairs, her voice echoing after him, "Do come again, little thief Mathiew. I have enjoyed your company and would relish a rematch!"

He made it home well after the time his family would have supped and had dinner. His mother, Mrs. Diggle, was waiting outside with his father pacing the yard with fear stricken on her face, but when she saw him she immediately looked enraged, "Wha' ave you been up tu, ya little trouble maker? Eh? You've scared me enought ta nevher let ya go out again! An' look at yer cloths! Dirty and wet all the way through they are!"

Frowning in embarrassment (Though secretly just happy to be home at all!) the young hobbit told her, "I'm sorry mama, I lost track of time and decided to have a little nap in the woods. I shouldn't done it, I know, and I wont be doin' it again." Seeming happy with that reply her angry face softened, though his father looked ready to give him a right beating! But his father, Mr. Diggle said nothing and let his mother take him into the hole and get cleaned up.


	2. Chapter 2

Mathiew Diggle didn't go back, even to that section of woods for a long time (Not that for the first month he went anywhere anyway.). About four months passed before his itch to return got the better of him. This dragon Pshirrta terrified him and excited him all at once! He'd wanted adventure since as long as he could remember and this dragon had given him a taste, even if he'd almost lost his life in the process; but that was adventure wasn't it? So as soon as he'd finished his chores for the day he found himself in the western wood searching for the holes that had been in the cavern's ceiling. He found one, but not in the way he'd expected (Or wanted) to. He spotted one and moved over to it but slipped and began sliding toward the opening.

"No, no, no!" he shouted as he slipped over the muddy edge and hung onto a muddy out-sticking root. And so he sat there for a moment, hanging onto the root and not knowing what to do. He shouted for help, but he doubted anyone would hear him. No one came over here to the western wood.

But a voice, and a terrifyingly familiar voice at that, rumbled through him from below, "Why hello there, little thief!" her voice came, he could hear, closer. He attempted to clamber up onto the solid ground, but the muddy ground wasn't having it and he began to slip. In a moment his muddy hands grasped only air and he was falling. Mathiew caught a glimpse of the glittering ground below him as he fell and wondered where the dragon was (For he had expected to see the dragon's open maw below him). But he heard a surprised hiss and turned his head to look to only see a leathery wing materialize below him, and he landed onto it surprisingly gently and began sliding towards the mounds of sparkling gold.

"Though I fully expected you to return I hardly expected you to descend upon me from above!" her voice mocked him as he crashed and rolled into her pile of jewels and gold, finally coming to a stop after a couple of moments, and regaining his wits a few moments after that. He looked up at her resettling herself comfortably on her hoard, surrounding him with her long, huge form.

"Well," Mathiew replied as he sat up fully and made a little glance around for the knife he'd seen last time (which he didn't see), "I didn't plan on a lengthy visit to be honest. Though I suppose it's rude to just drop in."

This caused more earsplitting laughter to erupt from Pshirrta, as her tail swayed slightly back and forth, "At least you're an amusing snack!"

"Snack!" he said with feigned surprised (Though he was sure she could hear his heart, so hard did it pound!) , "But what about our rematch?"

This caused the dragon to smirk and lower her maw in front of him, "Rematch first, and when I win I'll have a snack."

Smiling himself, despite his fear, he said, "If you win."

"Oh, of course I'll win. I'm on to your tactics little one." she hissed with anticipation, "You first."

This time he was ready (for he'd looked into such things during his four month break) and recited,

"Little nancy etticoat,  
In a white petticoat,  
And a red nose.  
The longer she stands,  
The shorter she grows."

This riddle didn't take the dragon long, and she smiled, "Candle, little thief Mathiew. Really you should stop using fire riddles with me if you want to live." then she added,

"A hill-full, a hole-full  
But you can not catch a bowl-full."

The young hobbit thought about this one for a while, fiddling with a couple of the dragon's golden coins, but it wasn't coming to him. He was scared now, for he had no ideas so he began listing to himself things that could not be caught in a bowl. 'Air, smoke, dust and mist. But maybe it is something that one would normally put in a bowl?' he questioned himself.

Pshirrta's tail flicked with annoyance and she growled, "Well? Have you an answer?" she was not a patient dragon it seemed (Not that there has ever been one).

"Mist?" he asked as he cringed, but the dragon sighed and moved her head higher up and looked down at him and said, "Correct."

To this he smiled widely and asked,

"What force and strength cannot get through  
I with a gentle touch can do,  
And many in the street would stand  
Were I not a friend at hand."

"Hmm ..." the dragon rumbled as her tail absently tightened closer around where he sat, "Thisss ... makes no sense ... There is nothing that force and strength cannot get through ..." She puzzled with this one for two hours until finally Mathiew decided to speak.

"Give up?" he asked as as much of a non-confrontational manner as possible as he looked through the ceiling holes at the reddening sky. He should be getting home soon, not that his, host cared.

Looking at the little creature she nodded with a hiss, "What is the answer?"

"A key." Mathiew replied as he stood up, making the dragon hiss more.

"Beaten twice, by a youngling no less! What are you, little thief?" she demanded, not uncoiling herself for him to leave yet.

"I, " he stuttered, "I am a hobbit." There was a silence for a long moment, for she didn't move to release him and he didn't want to attempt to climb over her tail.

Lifting her tail to allow him passage she rumbled, "Return home, little hobbit, return to your mother. She's calling for you, you know." a grin so wide he saw all her giant, sharp gleaming teeth.

"She worries." he stated simply as he began to run up the stairs, but he heard the dragon yell something after him.

"I'd imagine, Mathiew Diggle."


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't get in trouble when he got home that night, mostly because he brought armfuls of mushrooms and wild roots to calm his mother's rage. It was many more months (Six to be exact) before he summoned the courage, and built up the curiosity, to speak to the dragon again. Though this time he used the stairs. As it was midwinter he dressed warmly but even so by the time he reached her lair he was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. He brought some bread and dried meats for fruits to eat, for he was tired of being hungry and fighting for his life. He decided it had to be one or the other.

As he descended the last step he noticed a rumbling, but not loud breathing. Looking for Pshirrta he found the dragon asleep on her hoard. In really was more accurate, it was really no wonder he didn't see her his first time here. She was expertly hidden among her treasure, with only her nostrils and the tip of her tail showed. He was freezing cold, shivering so violently his teeth were chattering and he was surprised it didn't wake her up. He climbed up her mound, finding a warm spot to warm up next to her chest, as it seemed the warmest. He was warm in no time, and his clothing too seemed to dry quickly near the searing beast. As he sat there, probably the closest anyone had ever gotten to a dragon and lived to tell about it he examined her scales as he munched on a piece of cheese and bread. Even this close each scale shined brightly, he could even seem himself in them. Suddenly and surprisingly (For he had thought her asleep) she spoke, her voice being even louder and vibrating through him from head to toe due to his proximity to her, "Admiring my perfection, hobbit Mathiew?" she taunted him.

"Yes." he admitted, "You are ... magnificent in your entire enormity." Pshirrta was taken aback by this response, containing only honesty. No lies, or pride or even fear.

"Why do you come here?" she asked him suddenly as she lifted her head and turned it around to her side to look at him, "I threaten you, and berate you but yet you've returned again and again. I expected you to return the first time, curiosity demanded it. But now ... why?"

He shrugged and took another bite of his food then said, "Who else should I talk to, the toads? No one else even sees me until I do something wrong."

"Your own kind don't acknowledge you?" she stated, more than asked, "You are so small, insignificant."

"Yes." he agreed, "But at least I don't have anyone to compete with when I talk to you. Beside where else am I to find such quality of conversation?"

"Flattery will leave you a scorch on the floor."

"Good thing I'm an honest thief then."

"Liar." she hissed, shifting her tail to curl around where he sat. To this he shrugged and finished his snack the pulled out a piece of parchment and a sharpened piece of coal, then he began to draw. "What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to peer at his attempt at her.

"Drawing." he said simply and continued his work, "Do you wish to trade riddles again?" he asked her absentmindedly as he sketched the arch of her neck.

With a mighty shake and a growls like yawn the dragon replied, "No, that requires too much energy." then she laid her head down near to where he sat, her warmth forcing him to remove his winter jacket and then continue his work. He sketched for hours while the dragon slept, her deep chest rumblings occasionally causing her mound of gold to resettle around her to the point where she was almost buried again.

Finally it grew dark, and he knew he had to leave for home so he pack up his things and moved to get up, but Pshirrta moved first. She lifted herself up, dropping some of the coins that had been resting on her onto him, burying him in gold, to the point he didn't think he could get out. But before he could try to make a noise her tail pushed through the coins and wrapped around his waist, pulling him free and depositing him over by the stairs. Then she again laid down to sleep. He climbed up the stairs after pulling his coat tightly around him and tucking his drawing away into his sack. After one last glance at the dragon's 'sleeping' form he walked up the stairs and went home.


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost a year before he could return again, for his father started him on the farm, for now that he was nine he was old enough to start learning. And 'start learning' meant doing all the time consuming and energy requiring jobs. Finally he was able to go to the dragon's lair again early next fall. He brought the improved version of the drawing he'd done when he' been there last.

As he came down the stairs he found her beneath her mounds of gold again, but this time her eyes, fiery and stunning wide open and watching him and she said, "Hello stranger, why have you come to me today?" she seemed angry.

He shrugged and told her, "My father has chosen to get me working on the farm this year, so I have little time besides that. I finished that picture." He stated as he pulled it out, it was only in black and white but still it was well done. It was a drawing of his perspective of her that day, so long ago; It depicted her head down with eyes closed as a thin smoke came from her nostrils and her tail was also visible, looping around to join up with her head and the glittering of her scales and jewel mounds were very nicely detailed.

"It is adequate." she replied, "Are you up for another riddle competition, little one?"

Putting the drawing down onto the pile of treasure he nodded and asked, "Shall I start?" to which she to nodded.

"I never was, am always to be,  
No one ever saw me, nor ever will,  
And yet I am the confidence of all  
To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.  
What am I?"

Pshirrta thought about this one while he ate a small snack but eventually said, "Tomorrow." to which he gave an affirmative nod. "You will die, eventually." she stated suddenly and with a mocking tone, "Either by accident or age. How sad." Then she said her riddle,

"The dark realms constellation did I gain my birth,

Secret children of Mother Earth,

In armour's coat the protection I give,

To lie beneath those who live."

He paused in his chewing for a moment, then managed to say, "Your treasure hoard." through his mouthful.

"You've improved." she purred, then added, "Why do you waste your time with manual labour? You've an adequate mind for other mortal tasks."

Gulping down his bite of food Mathiew asked, "Is that your question, or are you simply asking? She raised her head, it rising to be at least 30 feet above him and she looked down at him with what he swore was pity, but her expression changed quickly.

"Of course not." she hissed

He nodded, and then answered her question, "I'm happy living here, working on my father's farm and helping my mother. This is where I want to be." then he stood up, leaving his possessions and going to her side and leaning against her front leg.

She twisted her long neck around to regard his little form, "Liar, you want more then the dirt of your forefathers."

To this he remained silent as he touched her shiny red scales, then he looked up at her and said, "I know your right, I guess. I just don't want to disappoint my father, my family."

"You cannot meet the expectations of everyone all at once, young one." Pshiirta told him as her great head lowered to his level, "And one most definitely cannot follow ones own goals with the goals others have made for us in our way." This made Mathiew lower his gaze, then she added, "You must choose between walking the path given to you, or one you define for yourself. There will be difficulties and there will be those who resent your choice, but in the end it is important that you be happy with your choice."

Little Mathiew was very quiet for a long time, and he sat with his back away from her view. She heard his light sobbing, and saw the shaking of his shoulders. But she didn't say anything, instead she began a thrumming in her chest. Slowly his crying subsided as he leaned onto her, pressing his ear against her side. He was calm and quiet for a bit, then he slowly looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and the remnants of tears still evident he smiled.

This baffled the great wyrm, but she remained silent until he spoke, "You know, your the only real friend I've ever had. And the best friend anyone could ever have dreamed for." He knew she'd probably laugh at him, or worse kill him to prove she was no such friend, but he wanted to be honest with her. He wanted her to know that he appreciated her advice.

But he was frozen in amazement as she didn't frown or berate him or try to hurt him, but instead she told him, "Little hobbit, through all my centuries I've spoke with wise elves, who said I was only evil; And dwarves who told me I was filled with greed; and humans who cowed in fear as they told me I was only a being of destruction. Never in all my centuries has someone said something so kind of me." she bowed her head to him as she closed her large, flame red eyes, "And I thank you for it."

"I'm happy that it means so much to you." he smiled in return as he went back to his things, "I think I may leave that picture with you." he added as he pointed to the sketch of her, to which she nodded.

"It is about time you left isn't it?" she frowned as she looked up through the holes at the stars. Gazing up to where she was looking he nodded.

"I believe it is." he replied then looked at her and continued, "I'll try not to be so long in returning."

Lowering her massive head on level with his she responded, "You'd better not, or I may have to come and find you." to which he smiled and bowed, then picked up his sack and headed for the stair. When he reached the bottom of the stairwell he waved then ran up, out of sight.

Mathiew (For the first time since he went to see Pshiirta) was home on time, and was quite surprised when he opened his front door. His mother was just taking the coats of their guests, his mother's friends Merile and Reginald Poppy, with their daughter. Like her mother the girl had reddish-brown hair, with freckles adorning her face just below her eyes (Which was common for hobbits of the east ways) but when he looked at her feet he was confused. She wore shoes, little green and pale tan shoes that went to her knees that she was in the middle of taking off.

"Oh, there ya are Mathiew. Why don'cha come an' hang op' our guest's coats while I get warmed op' some tea?" His mother said to him, then she handed the coats to him as she gestured down the hall to the coat room.

He smiled as she lead them to the parlour and said, "Okay Ma." then went about his task. When he was done he quickly went to his room and changed from his dirty cloths into something a little nicer then he headed to the parlour. He found his father entertaining their guests with the details of his plans to expand his farm, while his mother poured their tea and brought in a plate of biscuits. The older two were sitting together on a sofa (Of red velvet and mahogany wood, an exotic treasure to be sure) while their daughter sat on a small arm chair of similar design.

As he walked in his father paused in his story and nodded at him then asked, "Boy, have I ever introduced you to the Poppy's?"

"Yes." Mathiew replied as he took a seat on the piano bench, "But I didn't know they had a daughter."

"Oh well, introduce yourself daring!" Mrs. Poppy said to the younger girl.

Standing up she smiled, "I'm Annibelle Poppy" then she gave a little curtsy and sat again.

He felt very inadequate with her formality so he got up and bowed saying, "And I am Mathiew Diggle."

Smiling she said, "I know, Mrs. Diggle already said your name." then she gave a little giggle.

"Right, um." Mathiew mumbled as he sat down again on the piano bench. The adults chuckled a bit which made his face flush but his father saved him some embarrassment by continuing his previous conversation.

His father talked much about his plans, with Mr. Poppy also coming in and adding what he though might be wise, and the more he listened the more he felt there was something he was missing in the conversation. Like if they were to share farm supplies and land how would they do so? The Poppy's lived across Hobbiton from them, it would make no sense. Finally as the night was winding down he found his answer.

"So, to-morrow I'll send over my boy to help you move your things, and I'll have the Mrs's finishing cleaning up the spare rooms for you." his father said, and Mr. Poppy nodded.

Surprised Mathiew asked, "They're moving here?"

"I suppose I forgot to tell you, me boy, but yes. They'll be in by to-morrow is the hope." his father told him, "Young Annibelle will be takin the room next to yours and the Poppies will be in the spare on th' other end of the house." Mathiew didn't know what else to say so he just managed an 'oh' for politeness and then his mother spoke.

"Well, if yer ta be workin in th' mornin then ya best be for bed." she told him as she pointed off down the hall to his room.

Nodding Mathiew turned to each in the room and said, "Gnight." before walking off to his room for rest.


End file.
